Pain To Look At The Past Poem by Prabir Gayen

Pain to look at the past

Weak heart can not be dance,
Quavering breath brings pain,
The allured sense hovers over the past,
Past is past and never be retrieved.

Everything is pretty with
the fragrance of past,
Past is not dead though dead in time,
The past lived or Unlived is
the preface of life,
The seed of Joy is in the womb of past.

The yellow sun of life is gleaming
with the sweet and
sorrowful memoirs of past,
Vibrant and full of cries with
harmonic restlessness,
Living was living with active struggle
with the dream of future,
Non-living future was weak motivation
in the strong living present.

Poor village was a seat of living God,
With affluence and change of familiar
faces is now a cemetery,
The celebration become a serious living
with grim faces,
The light of the Sun is not new yet
always new as before,
The Moon shines as brightly as before.

The earth is as beautiful as before,
Only the light from eyes changes,
The beating of heart breathes
the fragrance of by gone days,
The warm days of warm heart.

The falling in love and looking at life
with bemused conscience,
Making a moon on moon in full moon night,
No moon night brought deep
speck of frustration,
Delight and frustration with the hope
of being frustrated again and again,
With the hope of new love to dawn.

Life is gone with all the woes and
Anathema of absence, The poverty,
Poorness was the route to Divinity,
With affluence time is lost in dream.

I look at the night and the way
to my final journey,
Somewhere in the stars or the moon,
My childhood friend,
is inscribed my demise,
With deep silence and unuttered
touchiness.

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